High Energy, Joy, Dara [books to read this summer .txt] 📗

had

never said specifically what research the center would be geared to. The man had

spoken in sweeping, generalized terms, quickly offering him a return on his

money that was too good to be true. LaLeche was smooth; he'd give him that.

"For what?"

Tyber shrugged his broad shoulders. "LaLechisms." Zanita giggled.

"Why did he discuss it with you? Did he want your advice?"

"No, he wanted my money."

Zanita opened her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I was told that for a nominal investment in his project, I could see a tidy

return on my money."

Zanita gave him a speculative look. "How nominal?"

"Three-hundred-thousand dollars."

Zanita sat up. "Outrageous! Even if you were suckered into his scam, who has

that kind of money to throw around?"

Tyber raised a regal eyebrow, watching the emotions play across her face. It was

just as he suspected; Zanita refused to have a clue as to how wealthy he was. It

was her way of not having to deal with the reality of the situation. Her way of

not having to deal with the reality of him.

Zanita blinked at his expression. His implication stopped her for a minute. "You

do?"

She never realized Tyber had that kind of… She shrugged her shoulders. It was

not important right now. She would think about that some other time, if at all.

"Even if you could, Tyber, you wouldn't."

"No." Nice job of suppression, baby. "But I'll let him think I will."

Zanita sagged against the pillow. "None of this is what we're looking for,

though. We already know he inveigles money from people. It's not illegal to get

a business partner."

Tyber laced his fingers behind his head, stretching stiff torso muscles by

twisting sinuously left, then right. "I keep thinking it's much simpler than we

suspect."

"Simplify, simplify." Her grin was gamine.

"You think I should go meditate by Walden Pond?" He leaned over to tug one of

her curls.

Here was her opportunity. "Actually, I was thinking you should go jump in the

pond." He released her hair to watch her with an apprehensive expression.

"I don't know whether to ask you to elaborate on that or not."

"You don't need to ask me." She patted his shoulder. "I'm going to tell you

anyway."

Tyber gave her a guarded look. Women had the inalienable right to toss men into

the dog house at a moment's notice.

Now why, he wondered, was he making this trip to the backyard?

She crossed her arms over her chest. Zanita meant business. "Tyber, you have

overstepped the terms of our agreement."

Tyber stared at her, his thought processes skittering off in a hundred different

directions at once. He wasn't sure what she was talking about, but he had to

tread very carefully here lest he inadvertently give her ammunition in a whole

new area. Any man past the age of puberty knew that the only way to respond in

this scenario was with a question. A brief, non-informative question.

"Our agreement?" There. That should be reasonably safe.

"Yes. If you will recall, when we began this partnership, we entered into an

agreement."

"I don't recall any written agreement between us."

"It was not a written agreement; it was a verbal agreement, which I will remind

you is binding in the State of Massachusetts." He gave her the mysterious face

of Mars look.

"I don't recall any verbal agreement, either. Zanita, what—"

"I will refresh your memory. Do you recall asking me to move in here with you?"

"Of course I do, but—"

"Do you recall telling me it would be easier for us to work together on this if

we were… together?"

He knew where this was headed now. A one-way ticket to Doghouse Land. "Yes," he

answered her cautiously.

"Do you recall my telling you I didn't want to get involved in a relationship?"

He started to respond; Zanita cut him off.

"Do you recall telling me you wouldn't act like my boyfriend?" She raised her

chin defiantly at him, demanding an answer to the unanswerable.

Tyber swallowed. "Baby, I—"

"Frankly, Tyber, I'm not sure what to do about this. It is quite obvious to me

now that you are acting like my boyfriend and you've been doing it right from

the beginning." She pointed a stern finger at him. "What do you have to say for

yourself?"

"I…"

"There's nothing you can say!" She ticked off his sins one by one. "The pretty

gifts. The attentiveness. The numerous little kindnesses." She shook her head

sadly as if to indicate there was nothing else to be said. "I suppose I could

move back to my apartment as soon as LaLeche leaves—"

"No!"

Zanita jumped at the vehemence of his response.

Tyber racked his brain for some bizarre explanation which would make sense to

her. He couldn't let her move out now; they needed more time. He stalled. "You

can't move out now—we're so close to nailing him."

"How do you know?" She didn't seem to be buying it.

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "I just do!" As an

explanation, it made no sense. Zanita seemed to be mulling it over, though. She

tapped her chin.

"I suppose I could move into one of the spare bedrooms."

He ran his hand through his hair. Stall her. "Why would you want to do that?"

"To remove the temptation from you; it's obvious to me, Tyber, you can't help

yourself from acting like a boyfriend."

Think. Think. "You've got this all wrong, baby."

"I do?"

"Yes. I'm not acting like your boyfriend. I—" Think! "I'm conducting an

experiment."

"An experiment?" Her brows furrowed as she mulled this over. "What kind of an

experiment?"

What kind of an experiment! I'm testing my sanity. "It's… it's an experiment on…

High Energy."

"High Energy? What's that?"

"It's a branch of physics—particle physics, actually. You've heard of particle

accelerators, right? Like the one in Stanford? Well, another name for an

accelerator is an atom smasher, but that term is not politically correct, so we

don't use it anymore."

"What does any of this have to do with us?" She was looking at him as if he had

a gear loose.

"Urn, I'm getting to that. You see, physicists love to make things collide just

so they can see what happens. Especially atomic particles." He rubbed his hands

together. "Lots of fun."

"You are really strange, you know that?"

"No, I'm charmed."

"Huh?"

"A little physics humor; strange and charmed are two kinds of particles—"

"Really, Tyber, this is not solving—"

"You didn't let me finish. To a physicist, an